OF
DAVID
COPPERFIELD.
"The
-?"
My mother had been thinking of something else.
"The rooks-what has become of them
?"
asked Miss Betsey.
"There have not been any since we have lived here," said my mother.
"We thought-Mr. Copperfield thought-it was quite a large rookery
;
but the nests were very old ones, and the birds have deserted them a
long while."
<<David Copperfield all over
!
"
cried Miss Betsey. "David Copper-
field from head to foot
!
Calls a house a rookery when there 's not
a
rook
near it, and takes the birds on trust, because he sees the nests
!
"
"
Mr. Copperfield," returned my mother,
"
is dead, and if you dare to
speak unkindly of him to me-"
My poor dear mother,
I
suppose, had some momentary intention of
committing an assault and battery upon my aunt, who could easily have
settled her with one hand, even if my mother had been in far better
training for such an encounter than she was that evening. But it passed
with the action of rising from her chair; and she sat down again very
meekly, and fainted.
When she came to herself, or when Miss Betsey had restored her,
whichever it was, she found the latter standing at the window. The
twilight was by this time shading down into darkness; and dimly as
they saw each other, they could not have done that without the aid of the
fire.
"Well
?
"
said Miss Betsey, coming back to her chair, as if she had only
been taking a casual look at the prospect
;
"
and when do you expect-"
"
I
am all in a tremble," falteredmy mother.
"
I
don't know what 's
the matter.
I
shall die,
I
am sure
!
"
"No, no, no," said Miss Betsey.
"
Have some tea."
"
Oh dear me, dear me, do you think it will do me any good
?
"
cried
my mother in a helpless manner.
"
Of course it will," said Miss Betsey
.
"
It 's nothing but fancy.
What do you call your girl
?
"
"
I
don't know that it will be a girl, yet, ma'am," said my mother
innocently.
"Bless the Baby
!
"
exclaimed Miss Betsey, unconsciously quoting the
second sentiment of the pincushion in the drawer up-stairs, but applying
it to my mother instead
of
me,
"I
don't mean that.
I
mean your
servant-girl."
"Peggotty," said my mother.
"
Peggotty
!"
repeated Miss Betsey, with some indignation.
"
Do you
mean to say, child, that any human being has gone into a Christian church,
and got herself named Peggotty
?"
"
It's her surname," said my mother, faintly.
"Mr. Copperfield called
her by it, because her Christian name was the same as mine."
"
Here
!
Peggotty
!"
cried Miss Betsey, opening the parlor-door.
"
Tea.
Your mistress is a little unwell. Don't dawdle."
Having issued this mandate with as much potentiality as if she had
been a recognised authority in the house ever since it had been a house,
and having looked out to confront the amazed Peggotty coming along the
passage with a candle at the sound of
a
strange voice, Miss Betsey shut
6
THE
PERSONAL HISTORY
AND
EXPERIENCE
the door again, and sat down as before: with her feet on the fender, the
skirt of her dress tucked up, and her hands folded on one knee.
"You were speaking about its being a girl," said Miss Betsey.
"I
have no doubt it will be a girl.
I
have a presentiment that it must be a
girl.
Now child, from the moment of the birth of this girl-"
"Perhaps boy," my mother took the liberty of putting in.
"I
tell you
I
have a presentiment that it must be
a
girl," returned
Miss Betsey. "Don't contradict.
Prom the moment of this girl's birth,
child,
I
intend to be her friend.
I
intend to be her godmother, and
I
beg
you'll call her Betsey
Trotwood Copperfield. There must be no mistakes
in life with
this
Betsey Trotwood. There must be no trifling with
her
affections, poor dear. She must be well brought up, and well guarded
from reposing any foolish confidences where they are not deserved.
I
must make that
my
care."
There was a twitch of Miss Betsey's head, after each of these sentences,
as if her own old wrongs were working within her, and she repressed any
plainer reference to them by strong constraint. So my mother suspected,
at least, as she observed her by the low glimmer of the fire
:
too much
scared by Miss Betsey, too uneasy in herself, and too subdued and be-
wildered altogether, to observe anything very clearly, or to know what
to say.
"And was David good to you, child
?
"
asked Miss Betsey, when she
had been silent for a little while, and these motions of her head had
gradually ceased. "Were you comfortable together?
"
"We were very happy," said my mother.
"
Mr. Copperfield was only
too good to me."
"
What, he spoilt you,
I
suppose
?
"
returned Miss Betsey.
"For being quite alone and dependent on myself in this rough world
again, yes,
I
fear he did indeed," sobbed my mother.
"
Well
!
Don't cry!
"
saidMiss Betsey.
"
You were not equally matched,
child-if any two people
can
be equally matched-and so
I
asked the
question.
You were an orphan, weren't you?"
r'
Yes."
"
And a governess
?"
"
I
was nursery-governess in a family where Mr. Copperfield came to
visit. Mr. Copperfield was very kind to me, and took a great deal of
notice of me, and paid me
a
good deal of attention, and at last proposed
to me.
And
I
accepted him. And so we were married," said my mother
simply.
"
Ha
!
poor Baby
!"
mused Miss Betsey, with her frown still bent upon
the fire.
"
Do you know anything
?"
"
I
beg your pardon, ma'am," faltered my mother.
"About keeping house, for instance," said Miss Betsey.
"
Not much,
I
fear," returned my mother. "Not
so much as
I
could
wish.
But Mr. Copperfield was teaching me-"
("
Much he knew about it himself!
")
said Miss Betsey in a parenthesis.
-"
And
I
hope
I
should have improved, being very anxious to learn,
and he very patient to teach, if the great misfortune of his death "-my
mother broke down again here, and could get no farther.
OF DAVID COPPERFIELD.
'[
Well, well
!
"
said Miss Betsey.
-<<
I
kept my housekeeping-book regularly, and balanced
it
with
Mr.
Copperfield every night," cried my mother in another burst of distress,
and breaking down again.
"
Well, well
!
"
said Miss Betsey.
"
Don't cry any more."
-a
And
I
am sure we never had a word of difference respecting it,
except when Mr. Copperfield objected to my threes and fives being too
muchlike each other, or to my putting curly tails to my sevens and nines,"
resumed my mother in another burst, and breaking down again.
"
You'll make yourself ill," said Miss Betsey, "and you know that will
not be good either for you or for my god-daughter. Come
!
You mustn't
do
it
!
"
This argument had some share in quieting my mother, though her
increasing indisposition perhaps had a larger one. There was an interval
of silence, only broken by Miss Betsey's occasionally ejaculating "Ha
!
"
as she sat with her feet upon the fender.
"
David had bought an annuity for himself with his money,
I
know,"
said she, by and by.
"
What did he do for you?
"
"
Mr. Copperfield," said my mother, answering with some difficulty,
"was so considerate and good as to secure the reversion of a part of it
to me."
"
How much?
"
asked Miss Betsey.
"A
hundred and five pounds a year," said my mother.
"
He might have done worse," said my aunt.
The word was appropriate to the moment.
My mother was so much
worse that Peggotty, coming in with the
teaboard and candles, and seeing
at a glance how ill she was,-as Miss Betsey might have done sooner if
there had been light enough,-conveyed her up-stairs to her own room
with all speed
;
and immediately dispatched Ham Peggotty, her nephew,
who had been for some days past secreted in the house, unknown to my
mother, as a special messenger in case of emergency, to fetch the nurse
and doctor.
Those allied powers were considerably astonished, when they arrived
within a few minutes of each other, to find an unknown lady of portentous
appearance, sitting before the fire, with her bonnet tied over her left arm,
stopping her ears with jewellers' cotton. Peggotty knowing nothing
about her, and my mother saying nothing about her, she
was
quite a
mystery in the parlor
;
and the fact of her having a magazine of jewellers'
cotton in her pocket, and sticking the article in her ears in that way, did
not detract from the solemnity of her presence.
The doctor having been up-stairs and come down again, and having
satisfied himself,
I
suppose, that there was a probability of this unknown
lady and himself having to sit there, face to face, for some hours, laid
himself out to be polite and social. He was the meekest of his sex, the
mildest of little men. He sidled in and out of a room, to take up the
less space.
He walked as softly as the Ghost in Hamlet, and more
slowly. He carried his head on one side, partly in modest depreciation
of himself, partly in modest propitiation of everybody else.
It
is nothing
to say that he hadn't a word to throw at a dog. He couldn't have
THE PERSONAL HISTORY
AND
EXPERIENCE
throw%
a word at a mad dog.
He might have offered him one gently,
or half a one, or a fragment of one; for he spoke as slowly as he walked
;
but he wouldn't have been rude to him, and he
couldn't have been
quick with him, for any earthly consideration.
Mr. Chillip, looking mildly at my aunt, with his head on one side,
and making her a little bow, said, in allusion to the jewellers' cotton, as
he softly touched his left ear
:
"
Some local irritation, ma'am
?
"
"What!
"
replied my aunt, pulling the cotton out of one ear like
a cork.
Mr. Chillip was so alarmed by her abruptness-as he told my mother
afterwards-that it was a mercy he didn't lose his presence of mind.
But he repeated, sweetly
:
"
Some local irritation, ma'am
?
"
"
Nonsense
!"
replied my aunt, and corked herself again, at one
blow.
Mr. Chillip could do nothing after this, but sit and look at her feebly,
as she sat and looked at the fire, until he was called up-stairs again.
After some quarter of an hour's absence, he returned.
"Well?" said my aunt, taking the cotton out of the ear nearest
to him.
"
Well, ma'am," returned Mr. Chillip, "we are-we are progressing
slowly, ma'am."
"
Ba-a-ah
!
"
said my aunt, with a perfect shake on the contemptuous
interjection.
And corked herself, as before.
Really-really-as Mr. Chillip told my mother, he was almost shocked
;
speaking in a professional point of view alone, he was almost shocked.
But he sat and looked at her, notwithstanding, for nearly two hours, as
she sat looking at the fire, until he was again called out. After another
absence, he again returned.
"
Well
?
"
said my aunt, taking out the cotton on that side again.
"
Well, ma'am," returned
Mr.
Chillip,
"
we are-we are progressing
slowly, ma'am."
"
Ya-a-ah!" said my aunt. With such a snarl at him, that Mr. Chillip
absolutely could not bear it.
It was really calculated to break his spirit,
he said afterwards.
He preferred to go and sit upon the stairs, in the
dark and a strong draught, until he was again sent for.
Ham Peggotty, who went to the national school, and was a very
dragon at his catechism, and who may therefore be regarded as a credible
witness, reported next day, that happening to peep in at the parlor-door
an hour after this, he was instantly descried by Miss Betsey, then walking
to and fro in a state of agitation, and pounced upon before he could make
his escape. That there were now occasional sounds of feet and voices
overhead which he inferred the cotton did not exclude, from the circum-
stance of his evidently being clutched by the lady as a victim on whom to
expend her superabundant agitation when the sounds were loudest. That,
marching him constantly up and down by the collar (as if he had been
taking too much laudanum), she, at those times, shook him, rumpled his
hair, made light of his linen, stopped
his
ears as if she confounded them
OF DAVID COPPERFIELD.
9
with her own, and otherwise touzled and maltreated him. This was in
part confirmed by his aunt, who saw him at half-past twelve o'clock,
soon after his release, and affirmed that he was then as red as
I
was.
The mild Mr. Chillip could not possibly bear malice at such a time, if
at any time. He sidled into the parlor as soon as he was at liberty, and
said to my aunt in his meekest manner
:
"Well, ma'am,
I
am happy to congratulate you."
"What upon
?
"
said my aunt, sharply.
Mr. Chillipwas fluttered again, by the extreme severity of my aunt's
manner
;
so he made her a little bow and gave her a little smile, to mollify
her.
"
Mercy on the man, what's he doing
!
"
cried my aunt, impatiently.
"
Can 't he speak?
"
"Be calm, my dear ma'am," said Mr. Chillip, in his softest accents.
"
There is no longer any occasion for uneasiness, ma'am. Be calm."
It has since been considered almost a miracle that my aunt didn 't shake
him, and shake what he had to say, out of him.
She only shook her own
head at him, but in a way that made him quail.
"Well, ma'am," resumed Mr. Chillip, as soon as he had courage,
"
I
am happy to congratulate you. All is now over, ma'am, and well over."
During the five minutes or so that Mr. Chillip devoted to the delivery
of this oration, my aunt eyed him narrowly.
"
How is she?" said my aunt, folding her arms with her bonnet still
tied on one of them.
"
Well, ma'am, she will soon be quite comfortable,
I
hope," returned
Mr. Chillip.
"
Quite as comfortable as we can expect a young mother to
be, under these melancholy domestic circumstances. There cannot be any
objection to
your seeing her presently, ma'am. It may do her good."
"
And
she.
How is
she
?"
said my aunt, sharply.
Mr. Chillip laid his head a little more on one side, and looked at my
aunt like an amiable bird.
"
The baby," said my aunt.
"
How is she
?"
'<
Ma'am," returned Mr. Chillip,
"
I
apprehended you had known.
It's a boy."
My aunt said never a word, but took her bonnet by the strings, in
the manner of a sling, aimed a blow at Mr. Chillip's head with it, put
it on bent, walked out, and never came back. She vanished like a dis-
contented fairy;
or like one of those supernatural beings, whom it
was popularly supposed
I
was entitled to see
;
and never came back any
more.
No.
I
lay in my basket, and my mother lay in her bed; but Betsey
Trotwood Copperfield was for ever in the land of dreams and shadows,
the tremendous region whence
I
had so lately travelled; and the light
upon the window of our room shone out upon the earthly bourne of all
such travellers, and the mound above the ashes and the dust that once
was he, without whom
I
had never been.
THE PERSONAL HISTORY
AND
EXPERIENCE
CHAPTER
11.
I
OBSERVE.
THE
first objects that assume a distinct presence before me, as
I
look
far back, into the blank of my infancy, are my mother with her pretty
hair and youthful shape, and Peggotty with no shape at all, and eyes so
dark that they seemed to darken their whole neighbourhood in her face,
and cheeks and arms so hard and red that
I
wondered the birds didn't
peck her in preference to apples.
I
believe
I
can remember these two at a little distance apart, dwarfed
to my sight by stooping down or kneeling on the floor, and
I
going
unsteadily from the one to the other.
I
have an impression on my mind
which
I
cannot distinguish from actual remembrance, of the touch of
Peggotty's fore-finger as she used to hold it out to me, and of its being
roughened by needlework, like a pocket nutmeg-grater.
This may be fancy, though
I
think the memory of most of us can go
farther back into such times than many of us suppose
;
just as
I
believe
the power of observation in numbers of very young children to be quite
wonderful for its closeness and accuracy. Indeed,
I
think that most
grown men who are remarkable in this respect, may with greater pro-
priety be said not to have lost the faculty,
than to have acquired it
;
the
rather, as
I
generally observe such men to retain a certain freshness, and
gentleness, and capacity of being pleased, which are also an inheritance
they have preserved from their childhood.
I
might have a misgiving that
I
am "meandering
"
in stopping to say
this, but that
it
brings me to remark that
I
build these conclusions, in
part upon my own experience of myself
;
and if
it
should appear from any-
thing
I
may set down in this narrative that
I
was
a
child of close observa-
tion, or that as a
man
I
have a strong memory of my childhood,
I
undoubtedly lay claim to both of these characteristics.
Looking back, as
I
was saying, into the blank of my infancy, the first
objects
I
can remember as standing out by themselves from a confusion of
things, are my mother and Peggotty.
What else do
I
remember?
Let
me see.
There comes out of the cloud, our house-not new to me, but quite
familiar, in its earliest remembrance.
On the ground-floor is Peggotty's
kitchen, opening into a back yard; with a pigeon-house on a pole, in the
centre, without any pigeons in it
;
a great dog-kennel in a corner, without
any dog; and a quantity of fowls that look terribly
tall
to me, walking
about, in a menacing and ferocious manner. There is one cock who
gets upon
a
post to crow, and seems to take particular notice of me as
I
look at him through the kitchen-window, who makes me shiver, he is so
fierce. Of the geese outside the side-gate who come waddling after me
with their long necks stretched out when
I
go that way,
I
dream at night
:
as
a
man environed by wild beasts might dream of lions.
OF
DAVID COPPERFIELD.
11
Here is a long passage-what an enormous perspective
I
make of it!-
leading from Peggotty's kitchen to the front-door.
A
dark store-room
opens out of it, and that is a place to be run past at night
;
for
I
don't
know what may be among those tubs and jars and old tea-chests, when
there is nobody in there with a dimly-burning light, letting a mouldy air
come out at the door, in which there is the smell of soap, pickles, pepper,
candles, and coffee, all at one whiff. Then there are the two parlors
:
the
parlor in which we sit of an evening, my mother and
I
and Peggotty-
for Peggotty is quite our companion, when her work is done and we are
alone-and the best parlor where we sit on a Sunday
;
grandly, but not
so comfortably. There is something of a doleful air about that room to
me, for Peggotty has told me-I don't know when, but apparently ages
go-about myfather's
funera1,and the company having their black cloaks put
on. One Sunday night my mother reads to Peggotty and me in there,
how
Lazarus was raised up from the dead. And
I
am so frightened that
they are afterwards obliged to take me out of bed, and shew me the quiet
churchyard out of the bedroom window, with the dead all lying in their
graves at rest, below the solemn moon.
There is nothing half so green that
I
know anywhere, as the grass of
that churchyard
;
nothing half so shady as its trees
;
nothing half so quiet
as its tombstones. The sheep are feeding there, when
I
kneel up, early
in the morning, in my little bed in a closet within my mother's room, to
look out at it
;
and
I
see the red light shining on the sun-dial, and think
within myself,
cc
Is the sun-dial glad,
I
wonder, that it can tell the time
again
?
"
Here is our pew in the church. What a high-backed pew! With a
window near it, out of which our house can be seen, and
is
seen many
times during the morning's service, by Peggotty, who likes to make her-
self as sure as she can that it's not being robbed, or is not in flames.
But though Peggotty's eye wanders, she is much offended if mine does,
and frowns to me, as
I
stand upon the seat, that
I
am to look at the
clergyman. But
I
can't always look at him-I know him without that
white thing on, and
I
am afraid of his wondering why
I
stare so, and
perhaps stopping the service to enquire-and what am
I
to do? It's
a
dreadful thing to gape, but
I
must do something.
I
look at my
mother, but
she
pretends not to see me.
I
look at a boy in the
aisle, and
he
makes faces at me.
I
look at the sunlight coming in at
the open door through the porch, and there
I
see a stray sheep-I don't
mean a sinner, but mutton-half making up his mind to come into the
church.
I
feel that if
I
looked at him any longer,
I
might be tempted
to say something out loud; and what would become of me then
!
I
look up at the monumental tablets on the wall, and try to think of
Mr.
Bodgers late of this parish, and what the feelings of Mrs. Bodgers must
have been, when affliction sore, long time Mr. Bodgers bore, and physi-
cians were in vain.
I
wonder whether they called in Mr. Chillip, and he
was in vain; and if so, how he likes to be reminded of it once a week.
I
look from Mr. Chillip, in his Sunday neckcloth, to the pulpit;
and think what a good place it would be to play in, and what a castle
it would make, with another boy coming up the stairs to attack it, and
1%
THE PERSONAL HISTORY AND EXPERIENCE
having the velvet cushion with the tassels thrown down on his head.
In time my eyes gradually shut up; and, from seeming to hear the
clergyman singing a drowsy song in the heat,
I
hear nothing, until
I
fall off the seat with a crash, and am taken out, more dead than alive, by
-
-
Peggotty.
And now
I
see the outside of our house, with the latticed bedroom-
windows standing open to let in the sweet-smelling
air,
and the ragged
old rooksy-nests still dangling in the elm-trees at the bottom of the front
garden. Now
I
am in the garden at the back, beyond the yard where the
empty pigeon-house and dog-kennel are-a very preserve of butterflies,
as
I
rcmember it, with a high fence, and a gate and padlock
;
where the
fruit clusters on the trees, riper and richer than fruit has ever been since,
in any other garden, and where my mother gathers some in a basket,
while
I
stand by, bolting furtive gooseberries, and trying to lookunmoved.
A
great wind rises, and the summer is gone in a moment. We are
playing in the winter twilight, dancing about the parlor. When my
mother is out of breath and rests herself in an elbow-chair,
I
watch her
winding her bright curls round her fingers, and straitening her waist, and
nobody knows better than
I
do that she likes to look so well, and is proud
of being so pretty.
That is among my very earliest impressions. That, and a sense that
we were both a little afraid of Peggotty, and submitted ourselves in most
things to her direction, were among the first opinions-if they may be so
called-that
I
ever derived from what
I
saw.
Peggotty and
I
were sitting one night by the parlor fire, alone.
I
had been reading to Peggotty about crocodiles.
I
must have read
very perspicuously, or the poor soul must have been deeply interested, for
I
remember she had a cloudy impression, after
I
had done, that they were a sort
of vegetable.
I
was tired of reading, and dead sleepy
;
but having leave, as a
high treat, to sit up until my mother came home from spending the evening
at a
neighbour's,
I
would rather have died upon my post (of course) than
have gone to bed.
I
had reached that stage of sleepiness when Peggotty
seemed to swell and grow immensely large.
I
propped my eyelids open
with my two forefingers, and looked perseveringly at her as she sat at
work; at the little bit of wax-candle she kept for her thread-how
old it looked, being so wrinkled in
all
directions !-at the little house with
a thatched roof, where the yard-measure lived; at her work-box with a
sliding lid, with a view of Saint Paul's Cathedral (with a pink dome) painted
on the top
;
at the brass thimble on her finger; at herself, whom
I
thought lovely.
I
felt so sleepy, that
I
knew if
I
lost sight of anything,
for a moment,
I
was gone.
"Peggotty," says
I,
suddenly, "were you ever married?"
"
Lord, Master Davy," replied Peggotty.
"What
's
put marriage in
your head
!
"
She answered with such a start, that it quite awoke me. And then she
stopped in her work, and looked at me, with her needle drawn out to its
thread's length.
"
But
were
you ever married, Peggotty
?
"
says
I.
"
You are a very
handsome woman,
an't you
?"
OF
DAVID
COPPERFIELD.
13
I
thought her in a different style from my mother, certainly
;
but of
another school of beauty,
I
considered her a perfect example. There was
a redvelvet footstool in the best parlor, on which my mother had painted
a nosegay. The ground-work of that stool, and Peggotty's complexion,
appeared to me to be one and the same thing. The stool was smooth,
and Peggotty was rough, but that made no difference.
"
Me handsome, Davy
!
"
said Peggotty.
"
Lawk, no, my dear
!
But
what put marriage in your head
?
"
"
I
don't know !-You mustn't marry more than one person at a time,
may you, Peggotty
?"
"
Certainly not," says Peggotty, with the promptest decision.
"But if you marry a person, and the person dies, why then you may
marry another person, mayn't you, Peggotty
?
"
"You
MAY,"
says Peggotty,
"if
you choose, my dear.
That's a
matter of
oninion."
-
rc
But wcat is your opinion, Peggotty
?
"
said
I.
I
asked her, and looked curiously at her, because she looked so curiously
at me.
"
My
opinion is," said Peggotty, taking her eyes from me, after
a
little
indecision and going on with her work, "that
I
never was married myself,
Master Davy, and that
I
don't expect to be. That's all
I
know about the
subject."
"
You an't cross,
I
suppose, Peggotty, are you?
"
said
I,
after sitting
quiet for a minute.
I
really thought she was, she had been so short with me; but
I
was
quite mistaken
:
for she laid aside her work, (which was a stocking of her
own,) and opening her arms wide, took my curly head within them, and
gave it a good squeeze.
I
know it was a good squeeze, because, being
very plump, whenever she made any little exertion after she was dressed,
some of the buttons on the back of her gown flew off. And
I
recol-
lect two bursting to the opposite side of the parlor, while she was
-.
hugging me.
"
Now let me hear some more about the Crorkindills," said Peggotty,
who was not quite right in the name yet,
"
for
I
an't heard half
enou~h."
---
.
-~
Q-
I
couldn't quite understand why Peggotty looked so queer, or why she
was so ready to go back to the crocodiles. However, we returned to those
monsters, with fresh wakefulness on my part, and we left their eggs in
the sand for the sun to hatch; and we ran away from them, and baffled
them by constantly turning, which they were unable to do quickly, on
account of their unwieldy make; and we went into the water after them,
as natives, and put sharp pieces of timber down their throats; and in
short we ran the whole crocodile gauntlet.
I
did at least; but
I
had my
doubts of Peggotty, who was thoughtfully sticking her needle into various
parts of her face and arms, all the time.
We had exhausted the crocodiles, and begun with the alligators, when
the garden-bell rang. We went out to the door; and there was my
mother, looking unusually pretty,
I
thought, and with her a gentleman
with beautiful black hair and whiskers, who had walked home with us from
church last Sunday.
14
THE
PERSONAL HISTORY
AND
EXPERIENCE
As my mother stooped down on the threshhold to take me in her arms
and kiss me, the gentleman said
I
was a more highly privileged little
fellow than a monarch-or something like that
;
for my later understanding
comes,
I
am sensible, to my aid here.
"
What does that mean
?
"
I
asked him, over her shoulder.
He patted me on the head
;
but somehow,
I
didn't like him or his deep
voice, and
I
was jealous that his hand should touch my mother's in
touching me-which it did.
I
put it away, as well as
I
could.
"
Oh Davy
!
"
remonstrated my mother.
"
Dear boy
!
"
said the gentleman.
"
I
cannot wonder at his devotion!"
I
never saw such a beautiful color on my mother's face before. She
gently chid me for being rude
;
and, keeping me close to her shawl, turned
to thank the gentleman for taking so much trouble as to bring her home.
She put out her hand to him as she spoke, and, as he met it with his own,
she glanced,
I
thought, at me.
"
Let us say
'
good night,' my fine boy," said the gentleman, when he
had bent his
head-1 saw him !-over my mother's little glove.
"
Good night
!"
said
I.
"
Come
!
Let us be the best friends in the world
!
"
said the gentleman,
laughing.
"
Shake hands
!
"
My right hand was in my mother's left, so
I
gave him the other.
"
Why that's the wrong hand, Davy
!
"
laughed the gentleman.
My mother drew my right hand forward, but
I
was resolved, for my
former reason, not to give it him, and
I
did not.
I
gave
him
the other, and
he shook it heartily, and said
I
was a brave fellow, and went away.
At this minute
I
see him turn round in the garden, and give us a last
look with his ill-omened black eyes, before the door was shut.
Peggotty, who had not said a word or moved a finger, secured the
fastenings instantly, and we all went into the parlor. My mother, con-
trary to her usual habit, instead of coming to the elbow-chair by the fire,
remained at the other end of the room, and sat singing to herself.
"-Hope you have had a pleasant evening, ma'am," said Peggotty,
standing as stiff as a barrel in the centre of the room, with a candlestick
in her hand.
"Much obliged to you, Peggotty," returned my mother,
in
a cheerful
voice,
"
I
have had a
very
pleasant evening."
"A
stranger or so makes an agreeable change," suggested Peggotty.
"
A very agreeable change indeed," returned my mother.
Peggotty continuing to stand motionless in the middle of the room,
and my mother resuming her singing,
I
fell asleep, though
I
was not so
sound asleep but that
I
could hear voices, without hearing what they said.
When
I
half awoke from this uncomfortable dose,
I
found Peggotty and
my mother both in tears, and both talking.
"Not such
a
one as this, Mr. Copperfield wouldn't have liked," said
Peggotty. "That
I
say, and that
I
swear
!"
"
Good Heavens
!
"
cried my mother.
"
You '11 drive me mad
!
Was
ever any poor girl so ill-used by her servants as
I
am
!
Why do
I
do
myself the injustice of calling myself a girl? Have
I
never been married,
Peggotty
?"